“Shall I take your tray away?” asked Hope.
“Eh? Why—er—no. I rather think I’ll eat a little of the—er—whatever it is. I really feel a bit hungry.”
[CHAPTER XI]
ON THE SECOND
Whether Mr. Hanks meant to profit by the advice so frankly given him remained a question for several days. On Friday his classes in Latin and history presented the usual disordered appearance and the instructor’s attitude remained the same. It seemed to Gil, however, that Mr. Hanks was a little quieter and a little less nervous than usual; that he was silently studying the situation. But Gil may only have imagined that. There were no actual outbreaks of disorder on Friday, although Brandon Gary and his crowd indulged to their hearts’ content in minor annoyances. Saturday Mr. Hanks had only classes in Latin and for almost the first time since his appearance at Crofton recitations went off quietly and in order, due to the fact that the first football game of the season was to be played that afternoon and every fellow in school was much too absorbed in that to have either time or inclination for mischief.
On Friday Jim had weathered another day of practice without results damaging to his reputation for skill and experience. He had signal practice with the third squad and by dint of maintaining an appearance of ease and doing what the others did as best he could he had managed to deceive even Johnny Connell. Johnny was puzzled however. He confided as much to Duncan Sargent.
“I don’t understand how he can handle himself as awkwardly as he does, Cap,” said Johnny. “He seems to know what to do all right, but he makes all sorts of false moves while he’s doing it.”
“He can play, though, can’t he?” asked Sargent, his mind only half on the subject.
“Yes, it looks so,” answered Johnny.